Beyond Measure
by inkstainedfingers97
Summary: Lisbon could barely believe she was still alive, let alone that Jane had kissed her—several times, actually—and that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. Especially that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. Sequel to "The Tiger and the Lamb."
1. Chapter 1

A/N: So, I had zero intention of writing a sequel to "The Tiger and the Lamb," but I found myself reluctant to leave that little world once that story was over, and then this happened. Now I am possibly in danger of writing a second Mentalist novel. Yikes. This chapter comes to you courtesy of Chiisana Minako, who urged me to break one of my cardinal rules and post something before it is actually complete. I have no idea when I will actually finish this thing and probably won't update it for quite awhile after this, so just pretend this is a one shot for now, okay?

Spoilers: Pretty much goes AU after 4x22, but anything before that is fair game.

Rating: T, for sexual references and some adult language. *Note: This chapter has an 'm-ish' section. I have marked that section with 'mmm' if you want to skip past that part.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, and I'm certainly not making any money off them.

xxx

Lisbon shivered and crossed her arms over her chest as she stood outside Jane's hotel room, acutely aware of every stray draft that struck her much more exposed than usual skin while she waited for him to open the door.

"Here we are," Jane said cheerfully. He opened the door to a luxurious suite and ushered her inside with a hand at the small of her back. His hand was warm through the fabric of the thin red dress she wore. "Make yourself at home."

Lisbon looked around. The room was lush, expansive. The plush carpet felt wonderful beneath her toes after the cold marble tiles in the lobby.

She was still barefoot. The forensics people had wanted the red shoes for evidence, and they were welcome to them, as far as she was concerned. She'd rather have walked a hundred miles barefoot than put those things back on. The decision to remain shoeless had definitely contributed to the fact that she hadn't been able to get warm for the past several hours, however. Especially after spending over an hour in the open cockpit of the helicopter that had brought them from their little adventure in the mountains back to Sacramento.

Normally, she enjoyed helicopter rides—there was something thrilling about being so far above the ground with the wind whipping through your hair. On the few occasions she'd had the opportunity to ride in helicopters in the past, however, she'd been wearing shoes and a blazer, at the very least. This time, the wind cut straight through her, and she'd been cold ever since.

Jane put his arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her temple. "I'm going to run you that hot bath I promised you."

Lisbon looked down at herself. She could certainly use it. Her feet were filthy and she wanted nothing more than to wash the horror of this day away. "Okay."

"Feel free to look around," Jane called as he disappeared into the bathroom.

Not knowing what else to do with herself, Lisbon did as he suggested, still not quite able to believe that she was here. She could barely believe she was still alive, let alone that Jane had kissed her—several times, actually—and that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. Especially that she'd agreed to come over to his hotel room for a bath. She wandered around the room, letting her gaze meander over the gilt mirrors and rich furnishings. The place was absurdly ornate, but was just as devoid of personal touches as his old hotel room had been. The only thing she could see that remotely looked as though it might belong to Jane was a battered paperback on the nightstand. She sat down on the bed and picked it up. She opened it, idly leafing through it.

It fell open to a place about two thirds of the way through, marked with a photograph as a bookmark. She stared at in shock for a moment, then snapped the book shut and hastily set it back on the nightstand, her heart beating unnaturally fast.

The photograph was of her. She had no idea when it had been taken or where he could have gotten it from, but it looked like it had been taken on the roof of the CBI. Her face was lit up by the early afternoon sunlight as she looked out over the city skyline, apparently lost in thought.

"Bath's almost ready," Jane announced from the doorway.

Lisbon jumped about a mile. "Great," she managed.

He frowned at her. "What's the matter?"

She tried to smile reassuringly. "Nothing. Everything's fine."

His eyes strayed to the book on the nightstand. "Ah. Found the photograph, did you?"

He crossed to sit down on the bed next to her and reached across her to pick the book up off the nightstand. He opened the book and took out the photograph, looking at it fondly. "It's a good picture of you," he commented.

"Wh-where did it come from?" Lisbon stammered.

He shrugged. "I took it."

"You did? When?"

He tapped his index finger to his lips, considering. "Mm, about nine months ago, I'd say."

Lisbon couldn't think of a reasonable response to this. "I didn't even know you owned a camera," she said inanely.

"I don't. I took it on a phone. It's pretty good quality, considering," he mused.

"There's no way you took that on that ancient flip phone of yours," Lisbon said incredulously.

He raised his eyebrows. "I never said I took it on _my_ phone."

"But then—"

"Ah, yes, I'm afraid that was a crime of opportunity," Jane said, not sounding the least bit remorseful. "You know Markoff?"

"Yeah," Lisbon said warily.

"On the day in question, Markoff very carelessly left his phone in his messenger bag, right where I could see it. And there you were, standing there waiting for your coffee, looking absolutely breathtaking. You were completely lost in your thoughts and therefore unlikely to notice if I took a quick snapshot. How could I resist?"

"You stole Markoff's phone?" She didn't know why this should be so shocking to her. She could think of a lot of things he'd done that were much worse.

"Steal is such an ugly word," Jane hedged. "I temporarily liberated it from his possession, that's all. He never even knew I took it."

"How did you get the picture from him, then?" Lisbon demanded.

"I emailed it to myself from his phone," Jane said proudly.

This was even more shocking. "I didn't even know you had an email account."

"Ah, well, technically, I emailed it to Rigsby," Jane admitted. "That was the trickiest part of the operation. Not only did I have to teach myself how to use the email function on Markoff's phone in a limited period of time, I was forced to blackmail Rigsby into showing me how to send it to a drugstore so I could order a print of it and promising not to tell you about it."

Lisbon had no idea what to say to this. "I see."

He looked at her. "Are you going to freak out about this now?"

"I'm not freaking out," Lisbon lied.

He gave her a little smile. "Poor Lisbon. Forced to face so much evidence of my pining for you in such a short period of time. Perhaps it would have been easier for you if I'd had the opportunity to acquaint you with the idea more gradually."

"_Pining?_" Lisbon spluttered.

"Yes, I believe that is the correct term to describe a prolonged state of hopeless longing," Jane said matter of factly.

Lisbon made a strangled noise but was unable to form any other response.

He put his arm around her and kissed her hair. "Don't worry, Lisbon. We can take things slow while you get used to the idea. Now, you should take your bath while the water's still hot."

Still reeling, Lisbon retreated to the bathroom.

The sight of the bathroom temporarily distracted her from her unsettling conversation with Jane. Decadent didn't begin to describe it. This was the Versailles of bathrooms. It was bigger than her first apartment. The room was dominated by a huge sunken tub full of steaming hot water topped with a mountain of lavender scented bubbles which were threatening to spill over the side at any moment.

Lisbon barely spared a glance for the rest of the lavishly outfitted room. She put the disconcerting conversation with Jane out of her mind and stripped off her clothes in the blink of an eye. She let her clothes fall to the floor, kicking the hated red dress aside. She climbed into the tub and sank into the water with a sigh of pleasure. The hot water stung the cuts on her arm and chest, but it was completely worth it.

For the first ten minutes, Lisbon let her mind go utterly, blissfully blank, focused entirely on the heavenly sensation of the hot water leeching the tension of the day from her body.

Eventually she got around to the usual rituals required to actually get herself clean. She washed her hair. Her head was a bit tender on one side, where Russo had hit her. She had a flash of his hands on her, brushing her hair aside and smelling her neck. She rubbed her scalp violently, then scrubbed at her neck until the skin was red and raw. She didn't want to think about that.

She focused on reminding herself that Ben was safe and unharmed. That was all that mattered. Her team was safe. Jane hadn't been killed or arrested, which frankly was nothing short of a miracle. She had much to be thankful for, and the rest didn't bear thinking about. She traced her fingers over the place where her cross usually lay against her chest and took a moment to thank God from delivering the people she cared about from harm. She thanked God for her own life, too. She'd spent most of that day thinking she wouldn't live to see the sun set, let alone that she would be here in Jane's hotel room, in his bathtub, with him waiting for her on the other side.

She felt a delicious thrill of anticipation at the mental images that thought evoked. She didn't know what to make of the photograph of her he'd hidden away for himself for so many months and that he'd gone to such lengths to procure, let alone his claim that he was in love with her. The emotional implications of embarking on a new relationship with Jane were downright terrifying, but she had to admit to herself that she was eager to explore a more physical relationship with him. That was one area where she was confident she could hold her own.

She soaked for a long time. Her mind wandered to the kisses they'd shared by the lake. She found herself wondering idly if Jane might come into the room and try to finagle his way into the bathtub with her. It would be like him to barge in on her unexpectedly. It would be a refreshing change if instead of yelling at him, she invited him to join her. She indulged herself by allowing herself to speculate in some detail what bath time with Jane might be like. This was such a pleasant way to occupy her thoughts that she found herself lingering in the bathtub, half-hoping Jane would invite himself in and make the fantasy a reality. Eventually, however, she was forced to conclude that Jane was not, in fact, formulating any plans to seduce her in the bathtub. He never did cooperate with her favorite ideas.

His failure to cooperate with the bathtub fantasy was a little disappointing, but she was so relaxed from her long soak that she resolved not to let it get her down. Jane probably considered seducing a woman in the bathtub as too unoriginal, anyway. He was probably concocting some absurdly complicated scheme to manipulate her into bed instead. This was a cheering thought. Though Lisbon was of the opinion the classic methods didn't need to be doctored up with convoluted schemes, she had to admit (to herself at least) that part of her was very much looking forward to seeing what Jane came up with in that regard.

She finally emerged from the bath only to realize she didn't have anything to wear. She stood there for a moment, flummoxed. There was no way she was putting that dress on again, and the thought of putting on the underwear she'd been wearing all day back on was equally distasteful. Dammit. She should have insisted on stopping at her apartment to grab a few things before agreeing to come over here. She'd have to ask Jane to find her something.

She wrapped herself in a towel, reflecting philosophically that if he didn't decide to tease her mercilessly about it, perhaps this situation could help jumpstart the whole seduction thing. Calling out to Jane and informing him she had no clothes on certainly had the potential to send them down that course, anyway.

She dried herself off and wrapped herself in a thick white towel, then walked over to the door. "Jane," she called out. "Is there a robe or something out there I can wear?"

There was no answer.

"Jane?"

Still nothing. She cautiously poked her head out of the bathroom, clutching the towel tightly to her.

Jane was nowhere to be seen.

What the hell? Lisbon huffed in exasperation. Typical. He'd invited her over here just to disappear at the first possible opportunity. Being abandoned in a strange hotel room alone with no clothes on was not what she'd had in mind when she'd agreed to this.

Well, she couldn't go find Jane and kill him until she found something to cover herself. She went out into the main room and found the closet. There were two luxuriant robes hanging there, but when she saw the price tags affixed to each collar, Lisbon stepped back in alarm, resolving not to do so much as drip on them, let alone put one on. So much for that idea. She retreated from the closet and went to a dresser that looked like it could have come from Louis XIV's bedroom. She hesitated, then dug through the drawers to see if Jane had a t-shirt or something she could wear. Ultimately she settled on an old dress shirt that had seen better days and a pair of Jane's boxers. She had to roll the boxers up at the waist about four times to keep them from falling off her, but at least she was relatively decent.

She decided not to kill Jane after all. He disappeared all the time, but he did have the re-assuring habit of always coming back to her in the end. The best thing to do with carry on with her own affairs as usual and he would turn up eventually.

She found a comb and stood by the window, staring out over the city skyline as she worked the comb through the heavy waves of her wet hair.

Jane found her there, dripping on the carpet as she worked her way through the last of the tangles. He was humming a little under his breath when he entered, carrying a large silver tray laden with food, complete with silver dish covers. A single peach and yellow rose in a delicate glass vase completed the effect. When he saw her, he stopped and stared, frozen in the doorway, the tune he'd been humming dying on his lips.

"Hey," she greeted him. "I was wondering when you were going to turn up again."

He didn't answer. He just very carefully set the tray down and crossed the room to where she stood, comb in hand.

She opened her mouth to deliver a tart remark about him disappearing on her, but before she could, he gathered her in his arms and his mouth descended on hers.

Lisbon blinked when he released her several minutes later. "What brought that on?" she asked, a little breathlessly.

"You're wearing my clothes," Jane said. "You just got out of the bath and smell amazing. And I almost lost you today. Any one of those conditions by itself would be sufficient cause for kissing. You hit me with all three at once. I was completely powerless _not_ to kiss you."

Lisbon considered this. "Good to know."

He grinned at her. "Did you miss me?"

She scowled. "I admit when you invited me back to your place, I wasn't expecting you to abandon me to my own devices at the first opportunity."

"I didn't abandon you. I went to find food as part of my mission to provide and care for you for the rest of our days. Neither of us have eaten anything since breakfast, and there has been quite a lot of activity since then."

His mission to provide and care for her for the rest of their days? "You couldn't have just told me that you were stepping out for a few minutes?"

"I wanted to surprise you."

She rolled her eyes. "Couldn't you have saved your next surprise until the day _after_ we were both kidnapped and nearly killed by a serial killer and almost two dozen of his closest friends?"

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I thought I'd be back before you got out of the bath and you wouldn't realize I'd been gone."

"Why'd you have to leave in the first place?" Lisbon complained, knowing she was pouting but unable to summon the will to care.

He kissed the pout off her lips. "Forgive me. I would have just ordered room service, but the kitchen was closed, so I was forced to resort to less traditional methods to acquire sustenance for the two of us."

"You broke into the hotel kitchen?"

"Yes, it's quite a nicely outfitted one."

She glanced over to the tray. "And you stole from it."

"Meh, they won't miss it. Besides, with what I'm paying them, this place can afford to spot me a few eggs." He took her by the hand and drew her towards the little table in the corner of the room. "Come on. I made us omelettes."

He sat her down at the table and retrieved the tray, setting it down in front of her and removing one of the silver dish covers with a flourish. "Dinner is served, milady," he said gallantly.

Lisbon rolled her eyes, but she had to admit the eggs smelled heavenly. Jane sat down opposite her and uncovered his own dish. He gestured at her with his fork. "Dig in."

Lisbon nearly moaned in pleasure when she took the first bite—the eggs were light and buttery, the flavor of the sweet peppers and mushrooms exploding on her tongue. "Mm. If you do decide to quit the CBI, I could always hire you to be my personal chef."

"Really?" Jane said, pleased. "I assure you, my rates are very reasonable."

"I don't know," she said. "These are pretty good. I'm not sure I'll be able to afford you."

He gave her a wicked smile. "You could always kiss the cook. That would be ample reward for services rendered, in my opinion."

"In that case, I believe I've already paid my debt," she teased him, taking another bite. "You exacted payment the minute you walked in the door."

Jane grinned, unfazed. "Ah, but that was just for the main course. You haven't had dessert yet. I will required a generous tip for that extra delicacy."

Lisbon perked up. "Dessert?"

Jane wordlessly lifted the cover off one of the smaller dishes to reveal a cup of chocolate mousse.

Lisbon stared at the decadent treat, her mouth watering. He'd done this on purpose. He knew chocolate was her weakness. "I thought you said you were never going to seduce me over a meal," she accused.

He raised his eyebrows. "I'm not seducing you over a meal."

"You're not?" Lisbon was skeptical, but she couldn't keep the slight note of worry out of her voice. If he wasn't going to seduce her, why the hell had he invited her over?

"Certainly not. Why should I? I've already laid the groundwork for my seduction, after all. Now I'm just feeding you."

"Oh, you have, have you?" Lisbon said, relieved that seduction was apparently still on the menu, so to speak, but also confused. "When was that? I must have missed it."

"In the back of the trunk, of course. Far more original than seducing a woman over a meal."

Lisbon snorted. "I know you never went to high school, but just so you know, seducing a girl in the back of a car is hardly original. One might even call it 'sophomoric,'" she drawled.

"That only applies to the backseat," he informed her. "Seduction in the trunk is an entirely different matter."

She shook her head and kept eating. She finished her eggs before Jane did and fidgeted in place all of fifteen seconds before Jane noticed and told her dryly not to wait to start in on dessert on his account. Needing no further encouragement, she practically dived into it headfirst. It had been a long, hellish day, after all, and she deserved a little indulgence. If things had gone differently, she might not have eaten chocolate ever again. She closed her eyes and savored the sweet richness on her tongue.

When she opened her eyes, Jane was staring at her. "What?" she said self-consciously.

He shook his head. "I was just thinking one of my new goals in life is going to be putting that look on your face without food."

"Now you're in competition with yourself to please me?"

"You could say that," he responded. "I know which side of me I want to win."

She blushed. "Sounds like I win either way."

"That's the plan." He reached out and took her hand in his. "I'm going to make you so happy, Teresa," he said seriously, bringing her knuckles to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to them. "I promise you that."

A jolt of electricity shot up her arm at the contact, and Lisbon fought the irrational urge to pull her hand away. She gave him a weak smile, having no idea how to respond to such a declaration. She could handle teasing Jane, and she was thinking she was really going to enjoy seductive Jane, but serious, romantic Jane made her decidedly nervous.

He sighed, probably guessing some of what she was thinking, and released her hand at last. She tucked it under the table and clenched her fingers into a fist, annoyed at herself for her unreasonable reaction to Jane's sweetness. Unable to meet Jane's eye, she ducked her head and focused on her dessert, trying to recover her equilibrium. "This is really amazing," she said finally, taking another bite of the mousse.

Jane took a bite of the chocolate dessert. He made a face. "I really should have let it set longer. This is a dish that shouldn't be rushed. I'm afraid I was in a bit of a hurry to get back up here."

"You're saying you can make something better than this?" Lisbon asked, incredulous. "You've been holding out on me all these years. Any other hidden talents I should be aware of?"

He smiled at her. "I expect you'll discover a few more, in due time."

Well, she'd walked right into that one. She made a face at him and finished her dessert.

He slid his half-eaten dessert to the middle of the table in silent invitation. Lisbon didn't even hesitate. Who knew the next time she'd have an opportunity to eat chocolate mousse homemade by Patrick Jane?

They ate the rest of the mousse in silence and he let her have the last bite. After she finished, he leaned back in his chair and gave her a lazy grin. "I'll take that tip now."

She didn't answer, just got up and walked around the table without her eyes leaving his. She boldly took a seat on his lap, perching herself sideways across his legs. She leaned forward and slowly and deliberately took his face in her hands to kiss him. Jane's hands tightened on her hips in an almost painful grip. She kissed him slowly, languidly, her fingers tracing his jaw as she delved his mouth with her tongue.

Jane slid his hands up her sides and reached for her face, but in doing so, he accidentally brushed against the place on her collarbone where Russo had cut her with his knife. Lisbon couldn't help flinching. Jane froze, horrified. "I'm sorry," he blurted out, his fingers coming to rest the skin beneath the long gash as though he thought he might be able to soothe the wound away with his touch. "Are you okay?"

Lisbon dropped another soft kiss on his lips. "I'm fine," she said, hoping to reassure him. "It just stings a little, that's all."

Jane leaned his forehead on her shoulder and drew in several deep breaths, obviously trying to get himself back under control. Lisbon tangled her fingers in the curls at the back of his neck in a soothing gesture and suppressed a sigh. When he raised his head, she gave him a sad little smile. "It has been a hell of a day. Maybe we should just get ready for bed."

He nodded wordlessly. She climbed out of his lap and then gave him her hand, pulling him out of his chair. He still looked distraught, so she gave him another smile, this one more of a lop-sided grin. "I don't suppose you stole an extra toothbrush for me while you were down there raiding the hotel store cupboards?" she said in a teasing tone.

He said nothing, but reached into his breast pocket and produced a plastic wrapped toothbrush emblazoned with the hotel's logo.

She laughed in delight. "My hero."

He gave her a tired smile. "I'm afraid that's your role in our relationship, my dear."

She took the toothbrush from him and headed into the bathroom. He followed her, taking the toothpaste from her after she'd applied it to her new toothbrush and putting some on his own. They brushed their teeth in silence, staring at each other in the mirror over the sink. Lisbon was torn between being a little alarmed at the domesticity of the shared nighttime ritual and thinking how grossly unfair it was that Patrick Jane could look downright hot while performing what should have been a perfectly mundane task such as brushing's one teeth.

After they'd finished, Jane wrapped his arms around her from behind and kissed her hair. Lisbon turned in his arms, being careful not to wince when his arm rubbed against her the cut on her arm. She kissed him again. Mm. Minty Jane. Yum.

She couldn't help laughing a little when they broke apart.

Jane smiled at her, not getting the joke. "What's so funny?"

"We are," she told him. "You have to admit, we're acting a little ridiculous."

"How so?"

"After barely ever touching each other for over ten years, we're suddenly acting like we just invented kissing and can't go five minutes without it."

He slid his hand down her back and drew her closer to him. "We're just making up for lost time."

He sounded a little sad about that, so she kissed him again to cheer him up. "Bed?" she said hopefully once they'd separated.

He sighed. "I suppose I should get cleaned up a little first," he said reluctantly.

He really was being ridiculous. "I think I can survive without you for the length of time it takes you to take a shower," she said dryly.

"It's not _you_ surviving without _me_ that I'm worried about," he said, leaning forward for another kiss.

She swatted him playfully and gave him a little shove towards the shower. "Go. I'll be right outside."

"Promise?" he said pathetically.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes. Where the hell do you think I'm going to run off to in this getup? I'm pretty much stuck here until you help me get some real clothes, if you hadn't noticed."

"Oh, I noticed," he said. "I planned for it, in fact."

"You planned for it? What does that mean?"

"Why do you think I refused to let you go to your apartment to pack a bag before coming here?" he asked. "I knew you wouldn't want to put that dress back on after your bath and I had to make sure you had no means of escape. You might have panicked and tried to sneak away the minute my back was turned. Although actually the greater danger was that if I let you go home first, your practical streak would have argued you out of coming over here in the first place."

"So your plan was to strand me here without any clothes so I couldn't leave without you?"

"Yes. And it worked brilliantly, didn't it?" Jane sounded like his usual self, unbearably pleased with himself.

Lisbon shook her head. He was completely ridiculous. "Take your shower."

Lisbon went back into the main room and climbed into the massive bed. She burrowed into the blankets with a sigh of contentment. This bed was amazing. The mattress was by far the most comfortable she'd ever lain on. The sheets were crisp and clean, the blankets thick and warm, and the pillow soft against her cheek. She closed her eyes, finally letting herself feel the exhaustion she'd been staving off for hours. It crashed over her, pressing her into the pillow and mattress. Fortunately, she was entirely too tired to think, for which she was grateful. She really didn't want to spend any more time thinking about Russo tonight, at least. She would deal with his death and its implications later. She offered another quick prayer of thanks that they'd all survived this horrible mess, and asked God for peace for herself and Jane so they could deal with the fallout with as much strength and grace as possible.

Jane crawled into bed beside her a few moments later, smelling delicious. He captured her mouth as soon as he was halfway under the covers, half covering her body with his own. Lisbon registered with a shock the feeling of his bare skin against hers—he was wearing nothing but boxer shorts. She felt a stirring of energy as he slid his hand under her shirt to rest on her waist and pull her closer to him. She rested one hand on his naked bicep and let the other one drift up to trace the lines of his bare chest. Perhaps she wasn't quite as tired as she'd thought.

"Good shower?" she murmured into his mouth.

"Too long. I had to go well over five minutes without kissing you," Jane responded, flopping down on his back and pulling her towards him.

Lisbon glanced at the clock on the bedside table. "Yes, you almost cleared the ten minute mark," she said dryly.

"A Herculean effort for which I deserve tremendous praise and rewards beyond measure," he yawned.

"You expect tremendous praise for taking a shower in under ten minutes?"

"Fine, I'll settle for the reward," he said, claiming another kiss.

She slid one leg between his and kissed him back, running her hand down his chest.

Jane sighed in contentment when she released him. He met her gaze, his own eyes half-lidded and dark. "Beyond measure," he said hoarsely.

There was no response to that except to kiss him again, obviously.

His thumb stroked her bare hip under her shirt and she squirmed, amazed at how strongly such a slight touch from him affected her. Heat pooled in her belly as he kissed her neck. She drew her hand down his stomach, the sensation of his skin beneath her fingertips thrilling after so long thinking this was a forbidden pleasure she would never know. He touched his tongue to the pulse point in the hollow of her throat and she arched into him. Her hand started to wander south of the waistband of his boxers, eager to open new avenues of exploration between them.

"Ah," Jane gasped, pulling back abruptly as she grew closer to her quarry. He put his hand over hers to still it. "Perhaps we should wait on that a bit, my dear."

Lisbon drew back, hurt and incredulous. "Wait? What the hell for?"

Jane swallowed. "It's just—a lot happened today. We're both exhausted. I think we need to have some important discussions with each other before we take that step. And it's too late to get into all that right now."

"You're the one who started this," she accused him. "I didn't see you wanting to talk when you got into this bed a few minutes ago."

He winced. "I know. I got carried away."

"Are you seriously refusing to have sex with me?" Lisbon demanded incredulously.

He kissed her on the tip of the nose, which was infuriating. "Not refusing," he clarified. "Just… delaying, ever so slightly."

Lisbon huffed in exasperation. "We've already delayed long enough, if you want my opinion," she grumbled.

He sighed. "I want this to be romantic, Lisbon. I don't want us to rush ourselves. I want the chance to woo you."

"Huh," Lisbon grunted, dubious. Trust Jane to overcomplicate things. She wanted him, and he obviously wanted her, if the impressive tent in his boxers was anything to go by, so what was the problem?

He kissed her forehead and returned his head to his pillow. "Sleep, Teresa."

Was this what he meant by building a life together? she thought uncharitably as she punched her own pillow back into shape and settled back down on it. Having someone to sleep next to each night, safely separated by hundreds of dollars' worth of Egyptian cotton? Well, that wasn't going to cut it. She'd already lived a sexless existence for far too long. If she was going to have to get a life, which Jane seemed to be rather insistent about, there was going to have to be sex involved, that was all there was to it. If Jane had some objection to that idea, he would have to get over it. Soon.

Come over to my place for a bath, indeed, she thought furiously. Jane was the only man on the planet who could say those words and not mean them as a euphemism for something more. She really should have known. It was just like him to get her all hot and bothered and then leave her wanting more. She had ten years of evidence to this effect, didn't she? All that evidence supported only one conclusion.

Patrick Jane was the world's biggest tease.

mmm

Lisbon fumed for a few minutes on her side of the bed, but annoyingly, Jane was right. She was too exhausted to maintain any kind of intense emotion for long, and sleep drew her in after only a few minutes of plotting revenge against Jane for denying her sex.

She woke a few hours later to find Jane wrapped around her like an octopus, snoring gently in her ear. Honestly, he was impossible.

She needed to pee. She gently extricated herself from his grasp, ignoring his grunt of protest as she climbed out of bed. She went to the bathroom, then washed her hands and drank a glass of water. She stared at herself in the mirror, examining the nick on her neck and the longer cuts on her arm and shoulder. She had a few bumps and bruises, but she'd been very lucky, considering. She touched her throat, remembering the feel of Russo's hand closing around her neck. Very lucky.

She turned the light off and went back to bed. But when she got there, Jane was thrashing around in his sleep and murmuring her name in a tone of great distress.

Poor Jane, she thought with a sigh. He couldn't catch a break, even in his sleep. She crawled into bed beside him again and laid a tentative hand on his shoulder. "Jane," she said softly. "Wake up. It's just a dream."

"Teresa," he gasped, his face twisting in pain.

She touched his face. "Jane. It's me. I'm okay. I'm safe. Everyone's safe. You need to wake up now."

He woke with a start and sat bolt upright in bed, eyes wild. "Lisbon," he said, panicked, reaching for her.

"I'm here, Jane," she said soothingly, wrapping her arms around him. "I'm right here."

He clutched her to him, taking huge, heaving gulps of air. She could feel his heart hammering against his ribcage. "Sh," she said, rubbing circles on his back. "It's okay. I'm here."

"Don't leave me," he gasped, squeezing her so tightly she was afraid he might crack her ribs. "Don't ever leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere, Jane. I'm here," she repeated.

"You're not hurt?" he said anxiously, his hands roaming up and down her sides as though he were checking she was all in one piece.

"I'm fine, Jane." She kissed his cheek, his eyelids. "I'm fine."

She kissed him lightly on the lips, hoping to reassure him. This seemed to calm him a bit, so she did it again. And again, letting herself linger a little longer with each press of her lips against his.

He sucked in a sharp breath and kissed her back, sliding his tongue into her mouth and tangling it with hers. His hands slipped around behind her and slid up and down her back beneath her shirt, affirming that her skin was smooth and unbroken.

Lisbon closed her eyes and pressed herself against him, the warm roughness of his hands against her bare skin almost more than she could bear.

Lisbon couldn't have said exactly when the caresses turned from warm and comforting to heated and demanding. All she knew was that one minute they were sharing soft, sweet kisses, and the next, they were clutching at each other desperately, moving against one another other urgently. She was looking into Jane's eyes and he was wide awake, eyes dark with desire.

He reached for the hem of her shirt and she went to help him. The too-large shirt slipped over her head easily and was tossed aside. He tugged the boxers over her hips and down her legs as she toed his off of him. Then he slid inside her.

Lisbon gasped at the sensation of having him hard inside her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper. They moved together, and all reason and patience were lost. The only thing that mattered was the slide of his skin against hers, the pressure of his mouth covering hers, and the sweet, dark taste of him. He breathed heavily into her neck as his hands roamed over her body, sending heat coiling through her veins at every touch. They built to a frantic pace, both half-mad with their need for each other.

Lisbon came ridiculously quickly, and Jane followed her soon after, her name a cry on his lips.

Afterwards, they collapsed back onto the bed, both gasping for air after their exertions.

"That was… not what I planned," Jane panted, trying to get back his breath.

"Plans are overrated," Lisbon told him smugly, extremely satisfied in more ways than one. It pleased her beyond measure that this once, Jane had abandoned his plans and all semblance of control to surrender himself to the moment. For her. She was a little breathless herself.

"I was going to woo you," Jane insisted.

She rolled her eyes. Jane was the only person she knew who could use a word as perfectly ridiculous as the word 'woo' in normal conversation and mean it absolutely seriously. "You can woo me next time."

"I never planned to jump you in the middle of the night after having a nightmare," Jane said, not the least bit mollified. "My plan was to raise you to new heights of sexual satisfaction, the likes of which you'd never experienced before."

She decided not to inform him he'd pretty much already cleared that bar. "Sounds like a good plan to me."

Jane was obsessing. "I usually spend a lot more time on foreplay," he informed her. "I was just—overcome. Don't judge me too hastily. I can do better."

"Do you hear me complaining?" she said, exasperated.

"No, but then, that's not exactly a ringing endorsement," Jane huffed. "I don't want you to just 'not complain.' I want you to be so impressed by my lovemaking skills you can't stop yourself from coming back for more."

Lisbon shook her head. "Your ego really does know no bounds, does it?"

"This is not about my ego, Teresa," he said sternly. "It's about making you feel loved and cherished. It's about using every tool in my arsenal to keep you with me."

Lisbon wasn't sure what to make of this statement. "Sex is a tool in your arsenal?"

"Absolutely. How else am I going to manage it?" He fixed his gaze on her. "I'm going to make you weak with love and speechless with passion. I'm going to addict you to my presence in your bed through the strength of the multiple orgasms I will give you on a daily basis."

Lisbon opened her mouth to respond, but had no idea what to say to that. He sounded serious. Talking about setting the bar high. "I suppose this is probably a good time to mention I'm on the pill," she said finally, guiltily realizing this was a conversation they should have had _before_ attacking each other in the middle of the night.

"I know that," Jane said, his tone clearly communicating that he didn't understand why she would bother pointing out something so obvious.

She looked over at him. "What do you mean you know that? How the hell could you know that?"

Jane rolled his eyes. "You've been on the pill since you were seventeen. Not only does it help regulate your period, but after being saddled with the task of raising three younger brothers as a young woman, you were terrified of getting pregnant before you were good and ready, so you got a prescription before you were even sexually active. You've been extremely diligent about taking the pill every morning ever since."

She frowned. "I never told you that."

Jane yawned. "I divined it."

She glared at him. "Well, excuse me, but I happen to believe that mind reading is not an acceptable alternative to actually discussing a birth control strategy."

He raised his eyebrows. "I didn't hear you bringing it up."

"That's because _I_ knew I was covered," she retorted, peeved to realize he was right. She hadn't exactly been thinking coherent thoughts…

"But you didn't know I was," he pointed out. "By your logic, you should have insisted I wear a condom. How could you know I was clean?"

She gaped at him. "Because you haven't been with a single person since your wife."

He nodded. "Right. And you know that about me. Just like I know you're clean because you haven't slept with anyone in over a year and you're compulsive about going to your regular checkups."

"Hmph," Lisbon grunted, recognizing she was losing this argument and distracted by the disturbing realization that she was the first person Jane had slept with since his wife. Not that she wanted him to have slept with anyone else, but it made the fact that they'd just practically devoured each other a frighteningly momentous event. Being the first woman he'd slept with since his wife suddenly felt like a tremendous responsibility.

"The point is, we know each other," Jane continued. "We know each other well enough to know neither of us would ever do anything to endanger the other one's health and safety."

"You're saying you thought of all of this just now?" she said skeptically.

"No," he admitted. "I was thinking about it earlier, when your sneaky little hands were testing my resolve after the shower."

"I know we've gotten the timing a bit wrong, but I still think it's an important conversation to have," Lisbon said stubbornly.

Jane shook his head. "You're only bringing this up because you're emotionally overwhelmed and your subconscious thinks talking about birth control with me will be a good mood-killer."

Lisbon stopped. Could that be true? Was she really trying to sabotage herself so immediately after being granted her heart's desire? She had a sinking feeling he might actually be right about that.

Jane went on without waiting for a reply. "Well, I've got news for you, Lisbon. It would take a lot more than a talk about family planning methods to kill my mood right now. I just made love with a beautiful woman who has just proven beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is just as amazing in bed as she is out of it. So calm down and stop trying to ruin our afterglow, because you aren't going to succeed."

"Excuse me for trying to be a responsible adult," Lisbon grumbled, finally finding her voice and making one more attempt to defend herself against the charge he'd laid against her.

"You're just being obstinate now," Jane chided her. "Honestly, Lisbon, do you think there is any other woman on the planet with whom I would lose myself in a fit of passion?"

Lisbon blinked.

Jane sighed. "Let me rephrase. Do you really see me allowing myself to lose control with someone I didn't know and trust?"

"I suppose not," Lisbon said grudgingly.

"Right. Like I said, we know each other. That means it's safe to lose control with each other." He put his arm around her and pulled her towards him, arranging her so she was half on top of him. He kissed the top of her head. "Now, stop freaking out about this and get some sleep. Everything's going to be fine."

She settled herself more comfortably against him, telling herself that she was overreacting. He was right. She should just relax and enjoy this closeness while they had it. "You seem awfully sure of that."

"I am."

She closed her eyes. "Okay."

Right now, lying against him in the darkness on the edge of sleep, hovering between the trials of today and the worries of tomorrow, she had to admit it wasn't at all difficult to believe that what he said was true. They'd survived. They were safe. Her team was intact. Russo could never touch them again. And she had Jane to keep her warm.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Disclaimer, etc., in Part 1.

This chapter comes to you courtesy of the guest reviewer for 'Sliver' who requested a one shot or an update to this story. Since this is what I've primarily been working on lately, this is pretty much all I have to offer. Still not done with the story but since the future of TM is so uncertain at the moment, figured I'd better get something posted sooner rather than later. Enjoy!

xxx

Lisbon slept like the dead after their mid-night interlude. She woke with her head pillowed on Jane's chest, her arm across his stomach and one leg flung over his. Jane was already awake, one hand tracing lazily up and down her spine and playing with the ends of her hair.

Jane, of course, noticed the instant she awoke. "Morning," he greeted her softly.

Lisbon froze for a second, acutely aware of her—and his—unclothed state. She felt very exposed, not least because of the way she'd draped herself all over him, effectively trapping him beneath her.

Of course, he didn't exactly seem eager to escape. Besides, he had woken up in the middle of the night to rip her clothes off, so he was hardly likely to complain about her state of undress. She was being ridiculous. She'd slept with the man, for God's sake—it was a little late to be getting shy. And the way his fingers were moving up and down her spine felt amazing. He stroked her hair again. She closed her eyes against the sensation and allowed herself to relax against him. "Morning."

He continued to stroke her hair. "I'd hoped you would sleep later."

"What time is it?" She stretched languidly, enjoying the slide of his skin against hers as she felt the delightful pull of several muscles she hadn't used in a very long time.

His breathing changed and his hand slid lower on her back, his fingers splaying wide to hold her tighter to him. "Early."

She could see sunlight peeking around the edges of the curtains. "I guess we should get up," she said regretfully. "We'll have to stop at my place before work so I can get something to wear."

Jane put his other arm around her and locked his fingers together at the small of her back, holding her to him. "We're not going to work."

"I have to, Jane," she said with a sigh. She thought about all the cleanup that was going to be involved in closing the case she'd been working for almost ten years.

The list of all the things that needed to be done crowded in on her. She'd have to report to Bertram, give him the full story on everything they'd found out about Russo. She was probably also going to have to convince Bertram she hadn't merely lost her senses and decided to join Jane on his mission of revenge once it came out that Jane had been the one to kill Russo in the end, she realized with a sinking heart. There would definitely be people in the upper echelons of the CBI that would no doubt be convinced the events surrounding the whole kidnapping thing was just another one of Jane's clever schemes, executed to divert suspicion from himself, rather than a horrible sacrifice offered in exchange for saving a young boy's life.

Her own arms tightened around him. She really shouldn't leave him alone today, and making him go to the CBI the day after killing Red John was probably a bad idea. Ugh. It was a lose-lose situation. What a mess.

They'd also have to deal with all the Red John supporters they'd arrested at Russo's cabin. There would be interviews, arraignments, negotiations with the DA's office. Some of them would undoubtedly offer to give up some of their compatriots whose identities hadn't yet been discovered in the course of the investigation. The team would have to run down those names and see if they were valid leads or simply last ditch efforts by Russo's followers to save their own skins. She'd probably have to deal with the press at some point, too, she thought with dread. She cringed at the thought of facing all those cameras and trying to summarize the events surrounding the longest and most personally intense investigation of her career into an easily digestible soundbyte.

"Today's going to be insane," she said aloud.

"That is exactly why we are not setting foot in the office today," Jane said firmly. "We're going on vacation, remember?"

Lisbon frowned. "I don't remember actually agreeing to that."

Jane ignored her. "We'll go to the coast. I have the perfect place in mind."

She sighed. "I'm not saying no, Jane. It's just—this isn't the best timing, that's all. Maybe we can go in a few weeks, once things have calmed down a bit."

"Nonsense, now is the perfect time. If we wait, you'll just get wrapped up in the next round of cases that comes our way and be too busy saving the world to play hooky with me."

"I have responsibilities, Jane."

"I know that," Jane said, frustrated. "You're the most infuriatingly responsible person I know."

She pulled away from him. "I thought you said you liked that about me," she said, a little stung by the annoyance in his tone.

"I do," he said, immediately contrite. He pulled her close again. "I just don't want you to feel that you are personally responsible for protecting all of California's citizens by yourself. You've been working non-stop for months. You've been poisoned, kidnapped, and nearly stabbed to death in the name of duty. You deserve a bit of a break."

"Mm." When he put it like that, taking a vacation didn't seem like such an unreasonable idea.

"If you come with me, you won't have to speak at the press conference," Jane wheedled.

He knew her too well. "That is certainly an argument in your favor," she conceded.

"Besides," he went on. "I'm clearly in a fragile emotional state, so your do-gooder instincts will be needed to keep me from sinking into a downward spiral. It will hardly be a vacation at all, really. You'll be too busy taking care of me to relax completely."

Only Jane could joke about a thing like that, she thought in exasperation. "What a tempting picture you've painted," she said dryly. In truth, she was a little worried. That nightmare last night had definitely been real, and she'd never seen Jane when he didn't have his obsession with revenge to focus him. The idea of letting him out of her sight to wander around like a loose cannon was horrible to contemplate. He could undoubtedly do more damage in the space of a single afternoon than any good she could accomplish in a week's worth of work to make up for it. So if he was intent on taking a vacation, it probably really would be best if she tagged along, she reasoned. For damage control, if nothing else.

"Please, Lisbon? I don't want to face this next chapter alone." He gave her his best puppy dog eyes. The look on his face melted her heart. Any thought of going to the office and leaving him to deal with his grief without her flew out of her head. It was on the tip of her tongue to agree to what he was proposing when she realized his eyes were a little too wide, the look on his face a little too imploring. And his choice of words—this next chapter? Not really Jane's style.

She looked at him incredulously. "Seriously? Could you be any more blatant with the emotional manipulation there, Jane?"

He shrugged, unrepentant. "Why should I bother with subtlety when I know what will get me the result I want? Besides, it's the truth. I do need you. I have no intention of being separated from you for any length of time I can possibly avoid. If you insist on going to work, I will go too, but I'll be grumpy and uncooperative and will make everyone's lives miserable."

"So now you're just resorting to straight out blackmail," she concluded.

He snuggled up against her and continued as if she hadn't spoken. "If you go on vacation with me, on the other hand, I will be cheerful and will devote my utmost attention to helping you relax as much as possible when not claiming your attention for my emotional health."

"How generous of you," she commented.

He turned over and regarded her intently. "What is it going to take to persuade you?"

"You could try actually asking me, instead of announcing it to me like it's an established fact or trying to con me into it," she said, piqued.

"Please say you'll go on vacation with me, Teresa," he said immediately. "I want us to have this time together before we have to go face the real world again."

Well, how the hell was she supposed to resist that?

She decided she didn't want to. She scrunched up her face and pretended she was still considering. "Just how relaxed am I going to be on this vacation? You haven't made it entirely clear."

He grinned, onto her game. "Perhaps a demonstration would help with the persuasion effort," he suggested, running his hand through her hair.

She wrapped her arms around him. "I think you're right."

He kissed her. "Allow me to present my case." And he proceeded to pepper her with kisses, his hands roaming over every inch of skin he could reach.

"Mm," she groaned as he worked his way down her body. "I don't know…I'm not convinced…"

Jane, of course, could be very persuasive when he wanted to be. She decided she preferred this method of persuasion to his usual tactics.

She took the coward's way out and let Jane call Bertram to inform him that they would both be out of the office for the next week. She was certain she was going to end up regretting this decision, but couldn't find it in herself to care that much just at the moment. She was, in fact, too relaxed after some of Jane's more impressive persuasive efforts to bother worrying about Bertram or the fact that she was letting Jane inform her boss that she was taking leave instead of doing it herself.

Jane was sickeningly cheerful when he made the call. "Good morning, Gale," he greeted him when the other man picked up. "Patrick Jane here. I was just calling to let you know Lisbon and I will be taking a short leave of absence. Not to worry, though, you'll hardly have time to miss us—we'll be back a week from Monday." He listened for a moment. "Of course she is. She's right here. I made her promise to let me be the one to inform you of our plans… What do you mean, how did I manage that? Blackmail, of course. I threatened to ruin your career if she didn't agree to go on vacation with me. You know Lisbon, she's very loyal. She wouldn't let me frame you for any heinous crimes while it was in her power to stop me…"

Lisbon escaped to the shower at that point, not wanting to hear any more. Besides, if God decided to strike Jane down with lightning, she didn't want to be next to him when it happened.

She did call Cho, however, when it was Jane's turn in the shower.

"Hey," he greeted her.

"Hey," she said, feeling weirdly nervous. Maybe this was a bad idea. It wasn't fair to stick Cho with the mess Russo's death would undoubtedly produce, just because she didn't want to deal with it.

"You all right?"

"Yeah," she said quickly. "Fine. You know, a few bumps and bruises, but nothing major."

"Mm," Cho grunted, which was his way of saying that he doubted her assessment, but he wasn't about to interrogate her on the matter. "How's Jane?"

"He seems fine," she said dubiously, glancing at the closed bathroom door. "But you know Jane. It's impossible to tell what's actually going on inside his head."

"Yeah," Cho agreed. "You guys coming in today?"

"Uh, no," Lisbon said, wincing a little. "We're taking some time off. About a week. Jane wants to go to the coast, and I said I'd go with him."

"Good," Cho said. "You deserve a break, and you can make sure Jane doesn't go off the deep end."

"You don't mind?" Lisbon said worriedly. "I feel bad about sticking you with the cleanup."

"Don't worry about it. We'll take care of things here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Go."

"Okay," she said, guiltily relieved. "Thanks, Cho."

They spent a few more minutes discussing the various tasks that would need to be done to wrap up the case. They were just ending their conversation when Jane came out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist. Lisbon hung up the phone and watched him get dressed, a sight well-worth adding to her memory palace, no matter what happened next. "Cho said he'll hold down the fort at the office while we're gone," she told him.

"Good old Cho," Jane said with a smile.

"I'm going to owe him big time," Lisbon sighed. "It's a lot to handle."

"Nonsense, I'm sure Cho is happy to do it." He paused, considering. "You know, the thought of seeing him hold a press conference is almost enough to tempt me to watch some of the media coverage."

Lisbon laughed. "He'll probably answer all the reporters' questions in monosyllables."

"Remember when that TV crew tried to interview him?" Jane said fondly, buttoning up his shirt. "He turned all their questions back on themselves and started interrogating the interviewer."

Lisbon watched him put his vest on and start doing up the buttons. "Are you going to wear a three piece suit at the beach all week?" she demanded.

He glanced down at himself. "You have some objection to that idea, I take it?"

"Not at all," she said sarcastically. "We'll make quite a pair, you dressed like that and me walking around in your underwear if you don't help me get some clothes soon."

"Believe me, anyone who saw you right now would be too busy admiring your legs to critique your fashion sense, but I admit that is a privilege I would like to reserve for myself, so I will see what I can do about finding you something more suitable to wear."

"You'll have to go to my apartment to get my stuff," Lisbon said. "I can give you a list." The thought of Jane rifling through her underwear drawer was a little unsettling, but after last night—and this morning, for that matter—it seemed silly to object. It was a bit late to start getting prudish at this point. Besides, what choice did she have? She could hardly go out in public wearing what she had on now, and the idea of putting the red dress back on remained repugnant.

"No need," Jane said cheerfully. "I know what you need."

"Well—all right," Lisbon said. "Just grab something for me to wear until we can get back to my apartment to pack. Oh, wait, you'll need my keys." She stopped, realizing she hadn't had her keys with her when they got to the hotel. In fact, she couldn't remember where she'd left them at all. She hadn't thought she'd need them when they left to meet Russo at the theater, what with the whole walking to her death thing. "Crap. I have no idea where my keys are."

"I have them," Jane said. "Cho gave them to me last night."

She frowned. "Why did Cho have them?"

"He brought them along so you would be able to get home after the rescue mission," Jane said reasonably.

"Why didn't you give them to me?" she demanded.

He shrugged. "You didn't have any pockets. I have your badge and wallet, too."

"Oh. Thanks. Okay, well, guess that solves that. Let me give you the code for the security system."

"I know the code," he said, rolling his eyes a little.

"How?" she asked. He'd insisted on her choosing a random sequence of numbers to make it harder to hack into the system, so she couldn't see how he could have guessed it.

"I watched you key it in and committed it to memory."

Great. She sighed. "Fine. Go ahead, then."

He came over next to the bed and kissed her. "Be back soon."

Not having anything better to do, Lisbon settled back into the bed after he left. She snuggled under the blankets and had just started to doze off again when he returned.

She lifted her head from the pillow to see him entering the room with two shopping bags in his hands. "That was fast," she remarked.

"I didn't go to your apartment. I just got some stuff from the shop downstairs instead."

Visions of sweatshirts with the words "Loiree Grand" emblazoned across them in pastel lettering flashed through her mind. Oh, well. She'd only have to wear whatever it was for about twenty minutes, anyway. "Let's see what you've got."

He raised his eyebrows at her. "You planning to get out of that bed at some point, or do you want me to bring my spoils over to you?"

"Bring them here," she said. "I'm not getting out of this bed until the last possible moment before we leave."

"Well, I certainly won't complain about that, but it is a bit unlike you."

"This is the most comfortable bed I've ever slept in," she told him. "I find myself reluctant to part company with it."

"Hm. Perhaps we should just stay here for the week," Jane said thoughtfully.

He looked as though he were actually seriously considering this idea. "Bring me my stuff," she ordered, before he could concoct a plan to keep her locked inside a hotel room for the next seven days.

He brought the two bags over to the bed. He set one of them off to the side and handed the other to her. "This one's for you."

She accepted the bag and peered inside it. It contained three elegant looking white boxes. She drew the first one out and opened it warily. She stared at the contents, shocked. The first box held a silk camisole, a cream colored cashmere sweater, and a pair of designer jeans.

She picked up the sweater and held it up, dumbfounded. "Where the hell did this come from?"

"I told you, the hotel has a shop downstairs."

She looked at the label on the entirely-too-expensive jeans. "Those did not come from a hotel gift shop."

"It's not a gift shop, exactly," Jane allowed. "More like a boutique off the lobby. It's not entirely uncommon for a hotel like this to have a shop like that."

She opened the second box, almost afraid to look inside. It held a matching set of underwear and bra in the palest, most delicate pink. She looked at Jane incredulously. "Seriously? Pink?"

He shrugged, completely without shame. "I know you secretly have a girly side, Lisbon. There's no point in denying it."

"Ha!" Some excuse for Jane to buy her underwear. She let her fingers trace over the silky softness of the blush colored material. It was lovely, though.

"Besides," he went on. "I have a fantasy involving you and pink."

"You have a fantasy about me?" Lisbon said in surprise.

"Many, in fact. The one I'm referring to involves you, pink underwear, and cotton candy. I figured this would be a good start."

She wrinkled her nose. "Cotton candy?"

He smiled and pointed at himself. "Carnie kid, remember?"

"So you've always had this fantasy about cotton candy?" The idea that the fantasy pre-dated her presence in his life was weirdly reassuring.

"Nope," he said cheerfully. "I believe it started right around that time I saw you in that pink dress you were trying on for Van Pelt's wedding. I haven't felt the same about pink since."

"That awful bridesmaid's dress?" Lisbon said incredulously. "I looked terrible in that dress!"

"Terrible is a strong word," Jane said, still laughing at her.

"That dress was horrible and if you try to tell me otherwise, I will shoot you where you stand," Lisbon muttered darkly.

Jane chuckled. "It was too big for you and a very unflattering cut."

"Exactly," Lisbon agreed, somewhat mollified.

"To that point in our relationship," he went on, "I had never wanted to remove an article of clothing from your body more."

She stared at him, dumbfounded. Then she flushed and looked back at the absurdly expensive clothing he had bought for her. "Why the hell didn't you just go to my apartment and get my things instead of buying all this stuff?" she asked, exasperated. "It's not like it would have been inconvenient to get to. It's less than ten minutes away from here."

He shrugged. "Just felt like spoiling you a little."

Lisbon shook her head. "You spent too much money."

"Nonsense. It was money well spent." He nudged the third box towards her. "Aren't you going to open the last one?"

She opened it. It held a pair of elegant gold sandals—with no heels, thank God. Not exactly her usual style, however. Tucked inside the box was another tiny bag, which turned out to contain a simple gold bracelet. She didn't normally wear bracelets—too easy to catch on things out in the field—but this one was lovely. Meant for a special occasion. And a completely unnecessary and impractical thing to have bought when all she needed was something to wear until she could get back to her apartment. Dammit. Why did he have to do this? She would have been fine with the sweatshirt with the pastel lettering. She picked up the bracelet. "Jane…"

He gave her a sad little half-smile, as though he knew she was going to protest, but hadn't quite given up hope that she might simply accept his gift without an argument. "Aren't you going to try it on?"

He reached forward without waiting for an answer. He took it from her before she could protest and fastened it around her left wrist.

It was too much. She was overwhelmed by all of this, and the expensive gifts weren't helping. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him so, but catching a glimpse of his eyes fixed on her wrist and his fingers gently encircling it, now parallel to the gold band, she knew she wouldn't be able to bring herself to say it. Having him put it on her like that, so intimately… there was no way she could deny him now. She swallowed hard. "Thank you," she managed.

He looked up and beamed at her. "You're welcome."

She looked away. "So what's in the other bag?" she said, trying for nonchalance without much hope of succeeding. She knew he could feel how fast her heart was thumping from the pulse in her wrist beating against his fingertips.

Mercifully, he let her go and reached for the other bag. "Just a few things for myself. A couple of pairs of jeans, a sweater, that sort of thing."

"Really?" Lisbon said, surprised and pleased.

He shrugged. "You didn't seem that excited about me being in my usual attire at the beach."

She rolled her eyes. "Well, really, Jane, who wears a suit to the beach?"

"Not me, apparently," he sighed.

She picked up the shoes he'd bought her. "So what's the story here?"

"You have very attractive feet," he stated. "Naturally, if I was going to buy a pair of shoes for you, I was going to get a pair that would allow me to see more of them than usual."

She made a face. "Ugh. You aren't one of those weird feet people, are you?"

He raised his eyebrows. "Weird feet people?"

"Yeah, one of those guys with a foot fetish. Because let me tell you, if that's the case, this stops right now, buster."

Jane couldn't help laughing at her. "I assure you, my dear, I am no more or less obsessed with your feet than I am with any of your other perfect parts."

Lisbon frowned, not entirely reassured by this statement. "Well… good, then." She looked back at the pink underwear. "Cotton candy? Really?"

"Really," he confirmed.

"Hm." She'd have to consider that.

He grinned at her. "Confess, Lisbon. What fantasies do you have about me?"

Her eyes strayed involuntarily to the other bag he had brought upstairs.

"Interesting," Jane drawled, following her gaze. "Me in jeans?" he guessed. He sounded delighted. "Oh, Lisbon, you're so easy."

You have no idea, she thought to herself. "Shut up."

He kissed her again and patted her on the hip. "Go on, go get changed so we can get on the road. I know a lovely spot we can stop for breakfast on the way out of town."

She retreated to the bathroom to get changed, feeling much less bold about changing in front of him than she had about blatantly watching him get dressed. Which was ridiculous, since he'd already seen everything she had. Twice.

Everything fit perfectly, from the underwear to the sandals. She examined her reflection, noting that the fancy jeans made her butt look amazing. The sweater, while not something she would have chosen for herself, was fantastically soft and undeniably beautiful. And the sandals, which she hadn't been sure about, complemented the outfit perfectly. Jane had excellent taste, she had to give him that.

She went back out into the main room and presented herself for inspection.

Jane smiled when he saw her. "I can't say it's an improvement over what you were wearing before, in my opinion, but I suppose it will do for polite company."

"I look like a rich lawyer's wife," she commented.

"No, you look like a rich lawyer on her day off," he corrected her. "And absolutely lovely, I might add."

God, it was annoying how easily he could make her blush. "Thanks."

He stood up from where he was lounging on the bed and picked up a small duffel bag he'd apparently packed while she was changing, then retrieved several items from the bathroom to place inside it. Then he came out and extended his hand to her. "Shall we?"

"Yes," Lisbon agreed, taking the proffered hand.

They went out into the hall and Jane laced his fingers through hers. She laced her fingers through his in return, not quite able to believe this was happening. She felt a fluttering, giddy feeling in her stomach at the sensation of holding hands with Jane while not under the threat of torture or death. Lord, she thought, she really was easy.

They walked out into the hall hand in hand. When they got in the elevator, Jane punched the button for the basement level rather than the ground floor as Lisbon had expected him to. Lisbon raised her eyebrows. "This place have an underground parking garage I'm not aware of?"

"It does, actually, but that's not where we're going," Jane said.

"I thought we were going to my apartment."

"We are," he assured her. "We just have to make a quick stop along the way."

"What for?"

"You'll see."

When they got down to the basement, Jane led her through a twisting catacomb of dimly lit basement corridors until they reached a non-descript door with a large sign affixed to it printed with the words "Danger: Keep Out." The door was locked. Lisbon was really unsure about this now.

Jane picked the picked the lock in under ten seconds, and they were in.

The room was hot. A giant incinerator, presumably used to destroy some of the hotel's more unsavory waste products, dominated the room.

Jane led her straight over to the incinerator, grabbed hold of the handle, and opened it.

A blast of heat struck her in the face and burned her lungs. Without ceremony, Jane pulled the despised red dress from his bag and tossed it into the incinerator. Then he stood back and took her hand again.

Lisbon stared at him in shock for a second, then turned her gaze back to the inferno blazing merrily in the bowels of the incinerator. This was at least part of what the clothes she wore now were about, she realized. He'd gotten them to take the place of the red dress. Jane had known exactly how much she'd hated wearing that symbol of Red John's power over her and had resolved to help her destroy it at the earliest possible opportunity. Then he'd turned around and bought her brand new clothes, something he knew she'd like, instead. Replacing a symbol marking her for death with something representing Jane's intention to love and care for her as tenderly and thoughtfully as he knew how.

She had no idea how to express how much it meant to her that he knew her so well, so she simply leaned her head on his shoulder and together, they watched the red silk burn to ash.

Xxx

After they had gone to Lisbon's apartment to get some of her things, they drove down the coast to Monterey, where Jane rented them a tiny bungalow on a cliff overlooking the ocean. It was a lovely house, with huge bay windows in the front room and a cozy fireplace in the corner. Lisbon tried to get Jane to split the cost of the place with her, but he wouldn't hear of it, and eventually she gave up and just decided to enjoy the place.

Lisbon couldn't remember the last time she'd been on an actual vacation. She was honestly afraid she wasn't going to know what to do with herself. She was also concerned about what kind of trouble an understimulated Jane could cause when he didn't have catching murderers to keep him entertained. She was afraid he would start antagonizing strangers on the street just to keep from being bored. Either that, or brood all week.

Surprisingly, Jane didn't appear to be brooding at all. She asked him about it at one point early in the trip, tentatively asking if he wanted to talk about Russo's death. He said he didn't. When she pressed, he was quiet for a long moment and then turned to her with pleading eyes. "Can we just have this week, Lisbon? One week where we can just pretend to be a normal couple? That we're just two people who have nothing on their minds except enjoying each other's company? A complete vacation from reality."

Lisbon hesitated, uncertain.

"Please, Lisbon." He took her hand. "I want us to get used to each other this way before we let any of the pressures of our normal lives creep in to weigh us down."

He'd made a similar request the day of that final encounter with Russo, she remembered. She'd told him he'd need time to grieve properly for Angela and Charlotte, now that the distraction of Red John was finally gone, and he'd put her off, saying he'd think about his grief "tomorrow." It was past tomorrow by this point, but one more week didn't seem like so much to ask, considering everything they'd been through, so she relented and let it go. He was right. They'd have to deal with reality eventually, so why not enjoy the moment for once?

It turned out she needn't have worried about getting bored. Jane seemed shockingly content just to be with her and she surprised herself with the discovery that she was actually enjoying having some time away from work. It was sort of nice to be reminded she was capable of more than chasing down murderers and filling out endless reams of paperwork.

Jane was unusually non-combative with any strangers they came across, which was a refreshing change. Lisbon wondered at this a little, since she was used to what she thought of as Jane's default mode of provoking anyone unfortunate to cross his path just on general principle. After awhile, however, she gradually realized that the reason for this was a simple one: Jane generally only went out of his way to provoke people when he wanted to elicit specific information from them. Either that, or had assessed them as "evil" at a glance and decided to mess with them to restore what he perceived to be justice in the universe. Since they weren't primarily interacting with murderers in the course of their vacation, he had no real reason to bother stirring up trouble. Besides, he seemed far more interested in focusing his attention on ways to talk her out of her clothes—or keeping her out of them, as the case may be. She didn't know why he thought this necessary—it wasn't like it was a hard sell. Being the object of Jane's undivided attention was a little unnerving, but all in all, she found it preferable to having to placate the locals over his shenanigans.

She worried that she and Jane would clash over how they would spend their time when not united over the common bonds of sex and murder, but this, too, turned out to be a groundless fear. They went to the aquarium because Jane wanted to see the sea turtles, and to Carmel because Lisbon wanted to see the mission there. Jane informed her they also absolutely had to go to a place called Lovers Point Park, saying it was practically required, now that they were actually lovers. Lisbon rolled her eyes, but agreed to go in the end. Afterwards, they walked downtown and Jane found a used bookstore where he spent over two hours perusing the shelves. After he was done browsing, Lisbon insisted on paying for the stack of books he'd picked out for himself. Since he wouldn't let her chip in for the place they were renting and he'd yet to allow her to pay for a meal, she figured it was only fair.

Mostly, though, they spent long hours walking along the beach during the day, and evenings curled up in front of the fire. It was chilly in Monterey—not exactly swimsuit weather—but it was a breathtaking stretch of coastline, and they thoroughly enjoyed exploring it together. Lisbon liked watching Jane explore the tide pools, calling her excitedly to his side when he discovered a particularly interesting starfish or sea anemone or some other bizarre looking sea creature Lisbon didn't actually care about. She went to his side anyway, loving this sweetly excited side of him that she saw so rarely. He presented her with particularly beautiful shells he found throughout the week, and she accepted them, not quite sure what she was supposed to do with them, but secretly pleased to receive them nonetheless.

He bought a plastic pail and spade at a souvenir shop and she watched him build the most ridiculously complicated sandcastle she'd ever seen. She'd had to roll her eyes a little at its extravagance—really, it was so _Jane—_but he was so fun to watch in his boyish exuberance that she couldn't help smiling at the picture he made with his fantastical construction. Lisbon realized this was the first time since they'd met that she and Jane had spent a prolonged period just well… hanging out. She was surprised to find how easy it was, being with him. She'd forgotten how much she enjoyed his company when she wasn't busy being annoyed at him for some trick he'd pulled on some unsuspecting politician or another.

They went out to eat a few times, including one time to a seaside shack that Jane had insisted on stopping at because in his opinion they could not possibly leave Monterey without eating clam chowder out of a sourdough bowl. Lisbon hadn't eaten clam chowder out of a bread bowl since she was a beat cop in San Francisco. It was delicious. They went to a couple of nicer restaurants, too, but most of the time Jane cooked, preferring to stay in, which was fine with her. He was an excellent cook, and when they went out, he always knew the places with the best food, whether it was a hole in the wall or a five star restaurant. Lisbon decided having Jane be in charge of food was definitely a highlight of what he called their "new life."

They did not talk about Red John, or the future. After the first unsuccessful attempt to bring up Russo in conversation, Lisbon abandoned the idea and avoided the subject. As for the future, she was the one who didn't want to enter into conversation on that topic. She was afraid, somehow, that thinking about the future would burst this little bubble of happiness they were in. She couldn't think about what came next. All she could do was focus on the sight of Jane, turning his blinding smile on her as they walked along the beach together during the day or the look in his darkened eyes as he shuddered under her at night. This was their time, the time just for them, and selfishly, she didn't want to let one moment of worry about the future claim any part of it. They had one perfect week together, and she for one, was determined to savor every moment of it.


End file.
